


Whipped

by SapphoIsBurning



Series: Prompts from 11-9-16 [6]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Basically just being cute marrieds, Curtain Fic, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Food, M/M, mostly a character sketch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: Could Corey really say no to Tom's special request? It's not like he was asking much. Just a trip to a specialty store...for a device...for their evening plans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote half of this for a prompt someone sent in on 11/9/16, but then I ended up writing a different Corey/Tom story for them. However, I always did intend to finish this! So, dear Corey/Tom anon(s), this is for you.

 

Corey fondled the shiny aluminum object in the boutique. It had a wide end and a slender end, and he had never used one before. It seemed overpriced for such a luxury, but Tom said it was absolutely necessary for their plans. And Tom had said it pretty too—the way his eyes lit up when he showed Corey the shopping list. When he showed him what he already had on hand. How could Corey say no to his husband?

He drove back from the shop vibrating with excitement. He parked his Camaro crooked in their driveway and barely made it in the house before Tom threw his arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

“Did you get it?” Tom asked.

Corey produced a dainty shopping bag with handles, tissue paper tucked carefully around the device.

Corey smelled the air and slipped out of Tom’s grip to go into the kitchen.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

Tom nodded. He pulled the device out of the bag. He unscrewed the end and examined a round metal bulb. He inserted a cartridge.

Then he poured in a white liquid from a mixing bowl from the counter.

“Shake it up,” Corey said.

Tom did as he was told. “Do you want to try it now, or wait until later?” he asked.

Corey frowned. “I _am_ curious.”

“Close your eyes,” Tom said, stepping closer.

“Okay.” Corey’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Open your mouth.”

His lip dropped and his tongue lay lax against his bottom teeth.

Tom pressed the button and out of the aerator sprayed thick, sweet whipped cream into Corey’s mouth. His eyes opened in surprise and he stepped back, bumping into the counter.

“Wow,” he said, muffled by the load he was swallowing.

“Oh shit, the chocolate,” Tom said, rushing over to the stove. He stirred chocolate melting in a bowl over a pot of simmering water, adding cream and a dash of orange liqueur. He stirred and stirred until it looked fully smooth and glossy.

“That has to cool,” Tom said.

“Of course.”

“It will melt the ice cream.”

“Yeah, Phillips, I know about what happens when cold things touch hot things.”

Tom smiled. “Oh, you do?” He set down his whisk on a spoon rest.

Corey raised an eyebrow.

“Does it go like this?” Tom reached behind his neck to untie the string of the apron he was wearing. It dropped down. He untied another string and it fell to the ground. He stepped into Corey’s space, planting a foot between Corey’s legs.

“Which of us is cold and which is hot? Frankly, I think I’m bo—” but before Corey could finish that sentence, Tom grabbed him behind the neck and pulled him into a long, searing kiss.

“You’ve always been the cool one,” Tom said, finally, laughing and catching his breath.

“How long have you been waiting to use that line on me?” Corey said, a little indignant, wiping his mouth on the corner of his crisp pinstriped sleeve.

Tom shrugged. “Probably since we got the ice cream maker.”

“So since the wedding shower? Plans within plans,” Corey said. He opened the freezer and got out the plastic container the ice cream was ripening in. “Is this ready yet?”

“Probably,” Tom said.

“Did we make out long enough for the chocolate to cool?”

Tom grabbed a spoon out of a drawer. He scooped a bit of the chocolate sauce up and tasted it, considering. “It’s still pretty thin.”

He held the spoon out for Corey to try. Corey sucked the whole thing into his mouth and licked the bottom obscenely.

“Nope, I think I like Hershey’s better,” Corey said with a twitch of the corner of his mouth.

“Knock it off, Graves,” Tom said, rolling his eyes. “Open a beer, go hang up your jacket. We’ve got all night.” He turned back to the stove.

Corey put his hands on Tom’s waist from behind and whispered in his ear. “Don’t make me wait, Tom,” he breathed.

***

The ice cream was scooped. They put it in bright orange Fiestaware bowls that were also from their wedding registry. Tom ladled chocolate over both portions, and Corey was in charge of the rest: whipped cream from the shiny new aluminum gadget, a sprinkling of chopped peanuts, a maraschino cherry with a stem. He put a second one on his bowl.

“Why do people say being married is boring?” Tom asked.

Corey watched him dig into the ice cream, looking unguarded in this moment, a night alone, a night at home. Their home. He had chocolate on his nose. And, now that Corey looked, on his arm and splattered on the soft, worn Steelers hoodie he was wearing.

“I have no idea,” Corey said.

 


End file.
